True Genius
by BrigithBriice
Summary: That was the perfect disguise: nerd, lonely, insecure, family problems, more PHDs than friends and a constant need of protection... Spencer Reid was everything I needed and more. There was only one problem: work with the best profilers in the country and be able to fool them.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

That was the perfect disguise: nerd, lonely, insecure, family problems, more PHDs than friends and a constant need of protection... Spencer Reid was everything I needed and more. There was only one problem: work with the best profilers in the country and be able to fool them.

I gave a slight smile to my reflection in the wall of the elevator, thinking in how ridiculous I looked with those clothes. I flattened my hair even more and leaned my head, fading the smile on my face and getting into the character. Everything had to be perfect, because I knew that, making the slightest mistake, they would see behind the mask.

I sighed, moving a little bit my shoulders and acquiring a tense posture, an insecure one. That was Spencer Reid, the scared little boy that didn't looked like me at all, except for one thing: I was a genius too.


	2. Chapter I

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, so, before the chapter, I want to give some warnings. First, I want to apologize for any mistakes in the writting. I'm not a native english speaker (I'm Brazilian), so if you find anything wrong, please, let me know. Second, this story is an AU (Alternative Universe) and some things that happened in the original story didn't happened here. Maeve, for example, never existed. Finally, I want to say thanks to all the people that left reviews and started to follow "True Genius", seriously, you guys are amazing! Hope you like the chapter, here we go!

**Chapter I**

**Quantico, Virginia**

- I know its late – started Hotch, with his usual taciturn voice – but we have a bad one this time. Garcia?

I looked at Penelope while she turned on her "devices". Even after so many years, I still wasn't used to her unusual style. Her orange hair was pulled back in a bun and contrasted with the green neon of her suit.

- Last night, Las Vegas officers found the body of an unknown man on an alley next to the Lotus Casino – she said at the same time that showed us images of the man – It's the third death in a week with the same M.O.

I looked to the report, frowning.

- Triple shot in the forehead? – admired myself – This _unsub_ is obviously skilled.

Everyone agreed, looking concentrated at the images that were passing in the screen.

- The shots were so close that is hard to see the three bullet holes – commented JJ - Point blank?

Morgan denied, looking at his tablet.

- According to the coroner's report, the shots were shouted at least from 9.84 feet away – he said – Can we consider military training?

I raised an eyebrow.

- Hardly – I answered – The level of military training doesn't affect so much the ability with fire guns or long-distance shots. Besides, anyone can join an shot club and get better at it.

- Reid is right – mumbled Rossi, with a husky voice – we can't make suppositions just yet. Anyway, what's so special about this case, Aaron?

- We know that the shots can indicate that the _unsub_ wants to get distant from his victims, what can make an impersonal crime, but he tattooed all the victims in the chest before killing them – said Hotch, while Garcia showed us the pictures of the three dead bodies: two shirtless man and a woman showed on the skin a dark tattoo a little bellow the collarbone. I felt a terrible impulse of swallow hard, but controlled myself, at the same time Blake spoke:

- So he gets away of the crime and person with the use of the fire arm, but shows a certain level of sadism in the act of tattooing them. Can we be sure that this is only one _unsub_ and that he really made the tattoos?

- The Las Vegas police interviewed the families and friends of the victims and they all said that didn't know anything about the tattoos – said Garcia – And, before you ask, my _Chocolate Thunderstorm, _ there is no indication that the victims had anything in common.

Everyone nodded. I felt like my head was about to explode.

- We will discuss the rest in the plane, grab your go-bags, wheels up in thirty – commanded Hotch, getting up – You too, Garcia.

Garcia smiled and practically run to get her stuff.

- Are you ok, Reid? – asked Morgan – You look kind of exhausted.

I opened up a tired smile while I grabbed my pack on the table.

- I'm just tired – I answered – Just slept one hour before Hotch call.

Derek opened a little smile and I could see that he was assuming that I had stayed up late watching a Star Wars marathon. Almost shook my head; Even after nine years I could still be amazed by the fact that even the most intelligent people wasn't exception to the famous " we see what we want to see".

- I'll grab my bag – I said, leaving the room – See you in the plane.

**NINE YEARS AGO **

- I don't know if I can do this, Gideon – I said, while swallowing a good bit of whisky.

The man sitting in front of me stared at me with a serious face.

- Are you starting to doubt your abilities? – he asked, raising an eyebrow – Or is just afraid of what they will do if this doesn't work out?

I rolled my eyes, putting my back into the couch and staring at the noisy fire in the fireplace.

- Don't be ridiculous – I answered, my voice cold - This operation will be over in the blink of an eye, I'm sure of it. What really bothers me is this extravagant cover. Don't you think that they will find it weird if I'm too much of a "nerd"?

- No, they won't – he said – Because they'll trust you, they'll have the need to protect you and they'll never be able to imagine you telling a lie.

I smiled aside, staring at him.

- Aren't you underestimating them? I mean, they _are_ the best profilers in the country… and they're your friends – I paused – theoretically.

- They are my friends, and they're also great profilers, but you, more than anybody else, should know that people see what they want to see. And they want to see the young, insecure and naïve Spencer Reid exactly like this: young, insecure and naïve.

I shrugged, drinking a little more from my whisky.

- Well, they won't have to worry about Reid much longer, soon enough he will be dead and I will be able to return to my life – I said, evaluating his reactions to my words.

Jason didn't even flinch.

- Let's hope so – he said, to what I nodded.

**TODAY, QUANTICO-LAS VEGAS AIRPLANE**

- Reid, any interesting data on the tattoo in the bodies? – asked Hotch, taking me out of my thoughts.

- It's a five pointed star, also known as a pentagram – I started – It has been used for several cultures in the past, in many cases associated with religion or mysticism. One of the symbolical definitions more accepted, however, is that the pentagram symbolizes the balance between all the elements of nature and the spirit, in other words, the balance between all external factors and the men.

- Poetic – commented Blake, drinking a little bit of her coffee.

- So the tattoo could have a religious meaning? – asked Morgan, in a thoughtful tone.

- About that, I don't think so – said Garcia, serious – I've been making some research and I ended up with something promising. Does _Khrabros _ means anything to you?

- It's an Russian word – I said quickly, trying to seem surprise – for dauntless.

- Exactly, _Sweet Cheeks_! But that's not all, _khrabros _ is also the name associated to the Russian mob – she said, happily – I found an archive that has some mentions to certain dubious transactions in a Russian company with head office here in Las Vegas some years ago. The Internal Revenue Service investigated, but apparently nothing come up.

- Of course – commented Rossi – I've heard about the _khrabros, _a long time ago. Their symbol is a five pointed star exactly like the tattoos, isn't it?

Garcia nodded.

- So we are talking about the Russian mob? But the victims didn't work at the same place and apparently were social examples – said JJ.

- Well, about that – continued Penelope – The business we're talking about is called _Pieces and Technology Company, _they make pieces of every sort to the most variable ends, since automotive pieces to computers hardware. They also have many subsidiaries around the city.

- Production subsidiaries? – asked Hotch.

- That too – she answered – but I'm talking about related business. They've got mechanics, TI support shops and a lot more. We don't know who's the last victim, but Brian Wren worked in a subsidiary mechanic of the _P.T. Company_ and Amanda Black worked at a TI support shop, also related to the _khrabros._

- Then we can be dealing with someone that has some kind of grudge to the Russian mob – affirmed Blake, with a sigh – It's going to be like finding a needle in a haystack! They got have thousands of people with grudge against them.

I wanted to smile, but contained myself. The truth was that the _khrabros_ were long gone from being an independent Russian organization and even the slightest illegal activities that occurred inside the company needed the approval from external organs.

- Do you know anything about this company, Spence? – asked JJ.

- It's a promising business – I answered, staring at my friend – It has a good annual return and the actions are going up significantly for a good five years now. Unfortunately, I can't say I know much about the Russian mob.

Rossi, to my surprise, stared at me, intrigued.

- Is that so? – he questioned – 'Cause I could swear that Gideon had plenty contacts inside the _khrabros._

I wanted to hit my head against the wall. Gideon and his giant mouth.

I sighed, trying to appear tired.

- Gideon had many contacts in many places – I said – and he was never the most opened person in the world. I can look into the old diaries that he left over, perhaps I can find something.

Rossi, although looked suspicious, nodded.

- Do that, Reid – incentivized Hotch - But when we land, I want you to go with Blake to the morgue and talk to the coroner about the bodies. JJ and Morgan, you can go talk to the families of the victims and, meanwhile, Garcia, I want you to set up your equipment and start to search everything you can on the _khrabros _and this supposed covered up business. – he commanded – Rossi and I are gonna talk to the sheriff and analyze the data we already have, to start the profile.

I nodded, smiling slightly to Blake, who asked if I wanted some coffee, to what I said yes.

- You're going to visit your mom while we're in Vegas, _ Pretty Boy? _– questioned Morgan, smiling a little bit.

I denied with my head, distracted.

- She's traveling with the clinic – I said, grabbing the cup of coffee from Blake's hand – Grand Canyon. She's much better.

Everyone smiled, friendly. Suddenly, my heart got heavier when I thought how disappointed all those people would've been if they found out the truth. Years ago, I would never care, but things change… People change. I looked at JJ with the corner of my eyes, remembering her reaction when she found out my secret.

- Well, anyway, it's always an adventure to go home – joked Rossi.

I smiled when I answered:

- You have no ideia.


	3. Chapter II

**A/N:** _Hi guys! Here it is another chapter. Thanks to all the people that have started to follow and favoritated this fanfiction, and, of course, a special thanks to those who left reviews on the previous chapters! I hope you guys continue to like the story and, please, as usual, if you spot any mistake, let me know. Enjoy!_

* * *

**MANY YEARS AGO**

_Emily's POV_

That founding raising party was getting worse every second, I though, while taking a sip on the wine.

- Emily – called my mom – great party, isn't it?

I gave a forced smile, agreeing slightly with my head, a completely automatic gesture.

- Oh! – exclaimed my mother, out of a sudden – Mr. Carmichael!

I looked to where Elizabeth was waving and felt all the air scape from my lungs. The man that smiled and waved to where we were standing was tall and thin – almost like a model. He walked in a confident way, with his back straight and looking around very carefully.

When the man got closest, I notice that he should be very young. His face was extremely angled, his skin practically perfect, just like his long hair, arranged in a very elegant low ponytail. However, even though all of these things were extremely attractive, what really called my attention were the eyes. In my life, I've known very important people, but to that moment I've never had seen so deep, confident and mysterious eyes.

- Emily, I want you to meet Mr. Ryan Carmichael, a wonderful philanthropist whose contributions already helped a lot of people – introduced my mother, with the typical tone of politicians.

I gave my best smile, shaking the man's hand, noticing, while doing it, the strength of the grip.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carmichael – I said – I'm sure that your contributions were very important.

Ryan smiled.

- The pleasure is all mine, Miss Prentiss –he said – I mean, if we can't help those who need, then what is left for us?

I nodded. Though I doubted of the honesty of his words, the fluid way that he spoke was undeniable.

- So, what is your line of business? – I asked, since Elizabeth had gone to the other extreme of the room and had left me with the gorgeous philanthropist.

Carmichael smiled slightly, when answering:

- I'm on the oil extraction sector for quite a while now.

I drank a little of the wine, before asking:

- And does your company has it's headquarter in the United States?

Ryan denied, also drinking from his cup.

- South America, actually, but big part of my investitures are from here – he told me – that's why I spend so many time in the USA. However, tomorrow I'll be returning to South America and intend to remain there for some time.

I nodded, ready to keep moving the conversation, when a man, also very handsome, but with an austere face, come close to us, putting a hand in Carmichael's shoulder, while asking, in a very sarcastic tone:

- Why do you keep running from me?

Ryan rolled his eyes, but opened a huge smile.

- Nonsense, Vladimir – he said, squeezing the other's man hand – It's just that you looked very occupied with Mr. Senator … - he paused, looking at me – Oh, and this is Miss Emily Prentiss, daughter of Elizabeth.

I smiled, holding the man's hand. He never smiled.

- Nice to meet you, Miss Prentiss. – he said, very serious – I'm Sheik Vladimir Amad. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to steal Mr. Carmichael's attention. It was a pleasure to meet you.

And, so fast as he had appeared, the Sheik was gone, taking with him Ryan Carmichael. I smiled to the thought of so different men being together.

I drank what was left of my wine and, smiling slight, made my way out of that party, happy for going home.

* * *

**TWO YEARS LATER, BAU HEADQUARTERS – QUANTICO, VIRGINIA**

_Emily's POV_

I never considered myself a nervous or imprudent person, but that was going to be a big day. I was about to enter the BAU, one of the best _Profile _team that ever existed and, if in one hand it could protect me, in other, it could destroy me.

The elevator made his usual BIP and, without looking around, or even noticing anything, I directed myself to Aaron's Hotchner office, my new and suspicious boss, that, even though it was nice, seemed to believe without a doubt that the only reason that I was there it was my mother's influence – which wasn't truth in the least.

Anyway, I knew I'd have to convince not only him, but all of his agents that I deserved my position in their team.

- Very well, Prentiss - said Hotch, after verifying some pendency's – Now that everything is solved, I'd like to present you to the team. Please, follow me. I asked them to wait for us in the briefing room.

I followed him, noticing in how easily leadership came to the man.

Arriving in the room, that had a huge table and a television, I saw four people that ceased their conversation the moment we walked in.

- Prentiss, I'd like you to meet SSA Jason Gideon – the man waived slightest his head, looking almost bored. I smiled a little – Derek Morgan – the biggest man in the room arise from his chair, shaking my hand, gesture repeated for all the others – and Jennifer Jareau. This is Penelope Garcia – he pointed to a woman with a enormous smile – our technical analyst.

I nodded, saying with a smile:

- It's a immense pleasure to meet all of you.

- JJ – called Hotch – Where's Reid?

Before she could answer, though, a rushed young guy entered the room. His walk was very insecure and he held his bag like his life depended on it.

- Sorry I'm late, Hotch – he said, very quickly, without even looking up while putting his pack on the table – I had a little problem with the coffee machine.

- It's okay – answered the boss – Prentiss, I'd like you to meet Dr. Spencer Reid.

And, finally, he looked up to me. His insecure eyes stared at me and, for a moment, I almost didn't recognize him. However, despise his hair brushed behind the ears, the completely different posture and the apparent insecurity, I could see who I least expected… No one less than Ryan Carmichael.

* * *

**TODAY – LAS VEGAS, NEVADA**

_Reid's POV_

- Anything on the morgue? – asked Hotch as soon Blake and I walked into the police station.

I put my bag on the table of the improvised briefing room that they had seated up for us, while Blake answered:

- Nothing new, Hotch. The coroner confirmed that the tattoos were done by the _unsub_ and that the cause of death were the head shots.

Hotch nodded, while explaining what they had gotten in our absence:

- Morgan and JJ called earlier to confirm that, according to the families of both our victims, none of them had anything slightest mysterious or remotely illegal in their life. Oh, and the third victim was identified as Taylor Flynn, who worked at a production subsidiary of _P.T. Company_ as a machinery operator. Just like the other victims, nothing suspect stands out.

I sighed, knowing that I needed to solve that case before the BAU though in contacting the headquarter of _Pieces and Technology Company._

- Have you asked for Gideon's diaries, Reid? – asked Rossi, staring at me.

I nodded, not paying much attention.

- Yes, I asked to deliver it at the hotel. With some luck, I'll be able to read them tonight.

Rossi nodded slightest.

- Agents – called the sheriff, entering the room – they found another body.

Automatically, Hotch, Blake and I started to follow the sheriff outside, but, to my surprise, before I could pass through the door, Rossi's steady hand grabbed my arm.

Felting my whole body tensioning, I turned to look at him, showing in my face legit surprise.

- What…? – I started to ask, but he stopped me.

- Can I ask you something, Reid? – He questioned, still holding my arm. I resisted the impulse of backing off, nodding slowly - Why haven't you ever read Gideon's diaries?

I frowned, making a reasonable effort not to smile. Than that was it. Of all the things Rossi could suspect… he chose the most harmless one. God bless him.

- I… - I muttered, looking around, trying to look ashamed – I wasn't ready. When Jason left the BAU I was really mad, Rossi, and I didn't wanted to have any contact with anything that reminded me of him even more… You know he was like a father to me.

Opposite to what I expected, David didn't relaxed his facial expression and, although he had let my arm go, his voice tone still was very suspicious.

- And now, are you ready? – he asked, raising slightly his eyebrows.

I stared in his eyes, trying to give a shy smile.

- After all these years, I simply have to be.

As soon as I saw her body in the ground I knew it was too late.

Even in death her face remained beautiful, but it was visible that she had been in a fight recently. The purple bruises in her face and a cut with dry blood in her inferior lip didn't left room for interpretation. I shook my head, trying to hide a micro-smile. The girl had obviously put up a good fight.

Hotch, Blake and the sheriff were standing next to the body. Rossi, that seemed still being analyzing me, come closer with me, saying:

- The shots are a lot more distant this time. She must have fought, due to the state of her face.

Hotch agreed, with a serious look.

- Who found the body? – He questioned.

The sheriff pointed to a man that, holding a broom, talked to a police man.

- Jim Miles – said the sheriff – It's a street cleaner. Said that was cleaning the entrance of the alley when he saw her feet coming out through the side of the dumpster.

Blake sighed, commenting:

- This _unsub_ isn't resting. Two bodies in two days is a scary number.

Everyone agreed.

- Rossi, go with Blake talk to Miles, maybe he saw something else – ordered Hotch – Reid, I want you to go to the hotel and read Gideon's diaries. Perhaps you find something, otherwise…

- You're going to alert _P.T. Company _, aren't you? – I asked, before I could control myself.

Aaron nodded.

- Fast as possible. Maybe they know something… But first, get information on anything you can. With some luck, we may be able to use something with the _khrabros._

I sighed, without even trying to hide my irritation while saying, going to the car:

- I need two hours, after that, we can go talk to them.

I could feel Hotch frowning behind me, but I didn't turn back. I needed to talk to JJ. Soon enough, they would find out that the dead girl was Franceska Volk and that she didn't worked in any of the _khrabros_ subsidiary, but in their main office. They would find out that her tattoo wasn't made by the _unsub _and maybe they would even find out that she were the executive assistant of the CEO of _P. ._

I had no way out. After so many years, it seemed that the time to reveal my secret had finally come. It looked like it was time to, finally, bury Spencer Reid.


	4. Chapter III

**A FEW YEARS AGO **

**JJ's POV**

**Middle East, Military Camp**

- How could you keep this from me all this time? – I asked, trying desperately to control the anger in my voice – You knew all the time, didn't you? About my job in the DoD, about Emily, Doyle... You Always knew and, even so, cried when I left and upon Emily's tombstone... How... How could you?

- I needed to – he answered, with a deep sight – It's what he would've done. He would cry upon Emily's grave and would be devastated with your left. I had to do what had to be done, JJ, and I know it's a lot to ask for your trust, but believe me… I'm sorry.

I shook my head, passing my hand through my hair.

- I suppose I should thank you for secretly arranging Emily's safety – I spoke, slowly – And for saving me from the explosion.

He stared at me.

- You know, - he said – despite all this, I'm still… me. You don't have to look at me like I'm a total stranger, I'm still….

- Reid? – I interrupted, with a sharp laugh – Is that so? Because the Spence I know, the boy I chose to be my son's godfather couldn't shot half mile away with a long distance weapon. The Spence that I know, my friend, wouldn't be able to break someone's neck or give orders to a general. The Spence that I know isn't you and, yes, you are a stranger.

The man sitting in front of me gulped, which was kind of ridiculous, considering everything that I had saw he doing in the past day and a half.

- _Who are you_? – I asked, without being able to control myself – I deserve to know… Reid.

He stared at me again, nodding. His hair, once long, was now short, and the clothing he wore fitted him so well that it was a little bit disturbing. He was wearing a black shirt with long sleeves that were pulled high up until half arm. I asked myself how I could not notice the great definition of his muscles for so many years. I contained a sigh, thinking in how he was when he had rescued me from the shattering of the explosion that had killed even its planner, the traitor Michael Hastings.

- You're right, JJ – he said – You deserve to know, but the question is: Are you sure you want to?

I stared at him, angry.

- Don't play with me, Reid – I said.

He smiled. A smile very different from those I was used to. This one wasn't open and warm and didn't look like one of the "Spence's smiles" in the least. That smile was mysterious, closed… Just like everything else about the strange man sitting in front of me.

- My real name isn't Spencer Reid – he started, to my surprise – My mother died while given birth to me and I was raised by my father. Few things that you think you know about my past is real. In fact, I am a genius, graduated in several areas and universities and have an IQ of 187. No, I'm not insecure, I've never suffered bullying in my entire life and I never thought I would become an FBI agent.

He paused, analyzing me. I took a deep breath. That was a lot of information, but I needed to know.

- Go on – I commanded, with the coldest voice I could.

- Since early age I was trained to handle the most diverse situations – he said – I have great expertise and knowledge with close fighting, long distance shots with heavy and soft armament, knife fights, interviewing techniques and even torture.

I shook my head, perplexed.

- And you want me to believe that you are the same person I've known for six years? – I asked, without containing the sadness in my voice – Why do you pretend to be someone you're not? Why did you get into the FBI? Who do you work for? _Who are you?_

He sighed.

- I got into de FBI as a way to protect myself – he answered – Gideon, my handler, thought that would be better to be undercover in a law agency. The original idea was to keep me in the BAU, pretending to be Spencer Reid, a problematic and insecure genius, until I managed to exterminate the threat upon my head… the Russian mob.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

- I manage to achieve my goal in a very little amount of time. I turn my enemies into allies with relatively little blood – he said – But I didn't want to leave the BAU. Although it sounds cliché, I had started to like the life I had with you guys. So, I proposed to my superiors that I continue to work with the FBI at the same time that, out of the record, I worked to my real bosses.

- Which are…? – I asked

- CIA – he answered, with a heavy sigh – I worked for them from the moment I turned eighteen under the disguise of an analyst, even though my training had begun a long time before that, because of my father, a former agent.

- How is it possible that we never saw who you really are? – I asked, completely broken – How is it possible?

Reid moved his shoulders.

- I am very good in what I do – he said, almost embarrassed - And I had Gideon's help, of course. You couldn't have known, but think about it: can you tell me a single situation when I have missed a shot that a _really_ needed to shot?

I thought for a moment, but there was no reason, of course he was right.

- People see what they want to see, JJ – he said – Even the most intelligent ones. The BAU is no exception. You wanted to see an insecure, dislocated genius, incapable of shooting a gun and with a past of family problems and a mother in a sanatorium. By the way, Diana Reid never existed, it was an undercover agent. However, that was the image that I had to let on and that was the image that you wanted to see and, this way, you saw it – Reid sighed – I'm sorry.

- Besides Gideon, does anybody else knows who you really are? – I asked.

He nodded.

- A few agents of the high scale and a few in my tactical team of the CIA. And Emily, of course. She knew from the beginning – he paused – but only because she had met me, well, undercover me, in a mission I participate… long story. JJ, I know it's a lot to assimilate and that you probably have a lot of questions and I promise I'm going to answer all of them, but now I need to ask something to you.

I stared at him, with suspicious eyes.

- Do you want to come back to the BAU? – Reid asked – Because I can make that happened.

I felt my jaw dropping. Was he trying to buy my silence?

- I'm not buying your silence, if that's what you're thinking – said Spencer, like he could read my thoughts – Just making you an offer and, if that's what you want, I can even get out of the FBI… All you have to do is ask.

I gulped.

- I need to think – I answered – But I do have one last question… for now.

He nodded, incentivizing me.

- What's your real name? – I asked.

Reid smiled and, this time, the smile was familiar to me. Open. Warm.

- My name is extremely classified, but… I owe you this much. – He said – I'm Colonel Matthew Gray. It's a pleasure to meet you, Jennifer Jearou.

* * *

**TODAY**

Reid's POV

- I told Hotch I would check out how you were doing with the diaries – said JJ, as soon as she walked in my hotel room – I deduced that you wanted to talk to me.

- Sometimes I wonder how I could survive without your assistance, JJ – I answered, smiling – You are too clever for your own good.

She moved her shoulder, like she didn't care, sitting on the bed and staring at me.

- So… _khrabos._

I nodded, sighing.

- Hotch want to contact them as soon as possible. I told him I needed two hours to read diaries that never existed and Rossi is getting suspicious to the point of analyzing me the way he would analyze an _unsub. _ – I said, frustrated – Anyway, I already got in touch with the CEO and informed him about what is going on. I asked him to separate the files of anyone who could have a grudge against the company.

The blond sitting in front of me raised her eyebrows.

- So how do you plan to explain to Aaron that you have the personal number of the CEO of the company that one day ago you claimed not to know much about? – She asked.

I smirked, putting my back against the chair.

- I don't have a clue. When the time comes I'll think of something, even because I asked them to pretend not to know me in case I need to stop by.

- Well, you're the genius – said JJ, casually.

I sighed.

- I know it's likely that this case blows up my cover, JJ – I said – But there is nothing I can do about it. Besides, it's been nine years.

The woman nodded, still staring at me.

- What? – I asked, at last.

JJ give me a sad smile.

- You know, the BAU will not be the same if you leave - she said – I know you're far from being who everyone thinks you are. I know you're one of the participants of the operation that killed Bin Laden, I know you're one of the best assassins in the country as well of one of the most important men in the United States, but, in the end of the day, you will always be Spence to me.

I didn't contained a smile when I got up and hugged her tighten. While I squeezed her against me, I whispered in her ear:

- I will always be your Spence, don't worry about that.

* * *

- So, did you find anything? – asked Hotch, as soon as I entered the room where the team was.

I shook my head, denying.

- Nothing on the _khrabros_ – I said – What about you? Any news?

Rossi, that still kept a suspicious look in his face, answered:

- We find out that the latest victim was Franceska Volk, she worked in the headquarters of the company as executive assistant of Mikhail Stravinsky, the CEO. And there's been a change in this case.

I raised an eyebrow, incentivizing him to continue. Each word he said was making me feel worse. How was it possible that they had found out so many things in so little time?

- The tattoo wasn't done recently – said Morgan, cheery – She already had the star tattooed in her, unlikely the other victims.

I pulled a chair, sitting.

- I called the company – informed Garcia, looking through her notebook – and scheduled a meeting with Stravinsky today. I said it was an emergency and the secretary was very helpful.

- Of course she was – I hummed, upset.

Everybody stared at me in confusion. Hotch and Rossi seemed suspicious, Blake just surprised, probably because of the upset tone that I used, after all, Reid didn't get upset very often.

- What's up, _Pretty Boy_? – asked Morgan, frowning – You've been very weird this days…

I wanted to roll my eyes. I could see Derek's secret concern, thinking if it would be possible for me to have started to use dilaudid again.

I sighed, trying to control myself.

- I know, but really, I'm just tired. – I said, slight smiling – I can go talk to Mikhail if you want, Hotch, after all, I do speak Russian.

Aaron stared at me for a brief moment, before answering:

- Yes, you can come with me. – He said - In the meantime, I want the rest of you to review all the aspects of this case, ok?

Everyone nodded, concentrated.

- Garcia, keep digging everything you can about the _P.T. Company_ and call me if anything new comes out. – Hotch commanded – Ready, Reid?

I nodded, following him through the door, but not without giving a look to JJ, who seemed as worried as me.

* * *

- Why is everybody staring? – asked Hotch, while we walked to the reception desk.

I kept walking, without looking around. There was no point, I knew wherever I went, the looks would follow me.

- I think they can smell the feds – I said, joking.

Aaron looked at me, frowning.

- Did you just made a joke? – he asked, with a very surprised voice tone.

However, there was no time for me to answer, since we had arrived at the reception.

- Hi, - greeted my boss – I'm SSA Hotchner and this is Doctor Spencer Reid, with the FBI. We're to talk to Mikhail Stravinsky.

The secretary nodded, smiling, though I could see the slight surprise in her when she saw me. I wanted to sight, Russians were as sebtle as bazookas.

- Of course, Penelope Garcia called – said the girl, making a sign to a security guard in the other side of the room – Ivan will take you to Stravinsky. Here, take your visitors card.

Hotch and I nodded, following Ivan, a man with more muscles than Morgan, till the elevator.

- The CEO office is in the last floor – he informed with a very strong accent, while pushing the last button – obviously.

- So, how long have you been in the United States, Ivan? – I asked, sympathetically.

Without turning to look, the security answered:

- Three years, Sir. I'm still trying to improve my accent.

- There's nothing wrong with your English – I said - тем более своему усмотрению. Михаил знает, что я здесь? (Nor with your discretion. Does Mikhail know that I'm here?)

**- [A/N: Sorry if there's any mistake in here… I don't speak Russian, so if there is any error, you can blame google translator 'hehe]. –**

Hotch remained still, facing the elevator doors, but I could feel the surprise and suspicious coming from him.

- знать (He knows) – answered Ivan - Так что это, как вы одеваетесь, когда вы работаете для федералов? ( So that's how you dress when you're working with the FBI?)

I smiled aside, while answering:

- Внешность обманчива, вы знаете, что. ( Appearances can be deceiving, you know).

The elevator stopped, opening the doors and reviling a beautiful waiting room.

- Here we are – said Ivan – He's waiting for you in his office, just go straight ahead.

Aaron thanked him and started to walk to the door in the end of the waiting room. I looked aside to the empty table, where Franceska once worked.

- What did you said to him? – asked Hotch, with a whisper.

- Just asked if he liked it here.

He nodded, while knocking in the door and entering the CEO's office.

Sitting behind a large table was Mikhail Stravinsky. His expression was of someone who hadn't slept in days. His brunette hair was messy, which was very unusual.

- Excuse us, Mr. Stravinsky – started Aaron – I'm SSA Aaron Hotchner and this is Doctor Spencer Reid. We're here to talk about a very sensitive matter that has to do with your company.

Mikhail rouse from the chair and came hold our hands. If I didn't knew better, I would never imagine that he already knew me, so wonderful actor he was.

- I'm aware of what you want to talk about, Agent Hotchner – he said, in a perfect English, indicating the chairs we should sit in – And I can affirm to you that I am extremely devastated about what has been going on the past few days.

Aaron stared at him.

- So you know about the murders? – he asked, suspicious.

Stravinsky nodded.

- Unfortunately – he said – And I also know why you are here… You want to know if there is somebody with a grudge against my company, because you probably think that our business are more "dark" then we let on, but that's just speculation. Knowing that, I asked to put together the files of the people that might have something against the _P.T. Company _– he continued, pointing to a pile with five folders – and I think I know who's behind the killings.

Mikhail grabbed the first folder and opened on the table.

I felt my stomach fall. Of course.

- Dimitri Kuznetsov – he said, showing the picture and the file that were in the folder – He worked in a mechanic subsidiary to the Company and fired himself two years ago, after his wife died in company property. He seemed convinced that her death was our fault.

Hotch seemed suspicious.

- Two years? – he asked – That's a long time to be the stressor.

Mikhail nodded.

- I agree, but two weeks ago his ten year old daughter past away in a car accident in Nebraska.

Aaron stared at him.

- How did you know all this? – he asked – And if you knew who could be doing this, why didn't you go to the police?

Stravinsky stared at him coldly.

- I only find out what has been going on today, through a friend. If the police had warned me about the situation before, lives could have been saved, but clearly there was hesitation. I was about to send the files to the police station when Miss Garcia called, so I figure it would be better to wait. Is there anything else I can do for you, gentlemen?

- No, I think that's all – I said, getting up before Hotch could stop me.

Mikhail nodded, handing the folders to Hotch, who was already in his feat.

- I had one last question, Mr. Stravinsky. – he said, very serious – Did your company had anything to do with the death of Dimitri's wife?

The CEO smirked, in a way that was very familiar to me.

- About that, Agent Hotchner, I can say honestly that the _company_ – Mikhail stared at me, still smiling – is innocent.

I stared back, nodding.

- Thank you, Mikhail, for your cooperation – I said, while leaving the room, feeling Hotch's suspicious look in my back, while we walked to the elevator.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey guys, how was the chapter? Did you expect Reid being with the CIA? Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to all the beautiful people that started to follow and favorite the story, once again, I say: You guys are amazing. And, of course, a special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapters, it means a lot to me. I hope you continue to enjoy "True Genius"! See you next time,

Bri.


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